


What Are Friends For

by tilda



Series: Tumblr Ficlets [3]
Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Infidelity, M/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-06 10:44:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4218729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tilda/pseuds/tilda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry said he'd always be there for Nick. Sometimes it's harder than he expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Are Friends For

Harry sits beside Nick on the bed and listens to him take breath after shaky breath. He rubs Nick’s back in slow circles.

‘Stop thinking about it. Just breathe.’

‘I can’t stop thinking about it.’ Nick fiddles with his phone. That’s where he’d seen the pictures half an hour ago, on some newsfeed. _Is Flavio cheating on Grimmy?_

‘It’s bollocks,’ Harry had said when Nick rang him. ‘You know it is. You never take this stuff seriously. Why now?’

‘Because it’s not bollocks. I know it’s not. Come round,’ Nick had said, his voice barely there, and Harry had reached for his keys without thinking. He knew this is what he signed up for when he and Nick agreed to be friends. This is what friends do for each other.

He pries the phone gently from Nick’s grip and puts it on the bedside table. ‘Well, if it’s true, then he’s a dickhead and he’s not worth thinking about.’

This elicits a weird laughy sob and some misdirected saliva. Nick raises his hand to wipe his mouth. ‘Fuck. I knew this was happening. I knew it. I’m not stupid. Does he think I’m stupid? I’m not.’ Nick tries to catch his breath and Harry rubs his back. 

He wants to find Flavio and deck him. He wants to tear every single one of his bouncing angelic blond curls from that stupid fucking head of his.

Harry takes a long breath in, then releases it, controlled. ‘Come on,’ he says to Nick. ‘After me.’

‘Fucking yoga,’ Nick grumbles.

‘Well, fucking yoga works, actually. You should try it.’

Harry continues breathing deeply in and out. Even if it doesn’t work for Nick, it’s making Harry feel calmer. He nudges Nick. ‘Come on,’ he says again. ‘Humour me.’

Nick takes an uncoordinated gulp of air and ends up making himself cough. Then he starts giggling. He’s hysterical. Harry goes back to rubbing circles on his back. ‘Sit up. Hands on your knees, love.’

Nick follows Harry’s instructions, shaking out his shoulders and blowing out a breath before settling. He does a proper inhale and exhale.

‘That’s it,’ says Harry softly.

‘If you say 'Out with bad. In with the good' I will end you,’ Nick says before breathing in again.

Harry puffs out a laugh. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it.’

They sit on the edge of Nick’s bed and breathe together for a while. Nick gets less shaky and Harry tries not to think about Flavio the arsehole. _I never cheated on you_ , he thinks. _You were enough for me. I might not be around for half the year, but I loved you when I was around._

‘Ok, that’s enough breathing. Bored now.’

Harry opens his eyes. If Nick’s bored, he’s probably approaching all right. ‘I’ll make some tea then.’

He waits for the kettle to boil and looks out of the kitchen window. Puppy’s fossicking in the bushes at the other end, making them shudder in a ghosty way.

Being Nick’s friend means he has to do stuff like this, pretend to be calm when he’s half eaten alive with jealousy. But the alternative, the idea of not being around when Nick is a mess is ten times worse, so Harry lives with it. It’s all he can do.

When he takes the tea through, Nick is sitting in the same position, hands resting loosely on his thighs, staring straight ahead. He brings both hands up to take the mug Harry offers him. Then as Harry expected, there’s a mild squawk of surprise.

‘Where the fuck did you get camomile tea in this house?’

‘I always carry bags with me, just in case,’ he says sheepishly. ‘I added some honey as well. It’s probably better than getting all hopped up again on PG Tips.’

‘Oh my god, Styles,’ mutters Nick over the lip of the mug. ‘You are a living, breathing, walking self-parody, I swear.’

‘Just drink it,’ Harry says gently, and Nick does, eyes sinking shut as he takes the first sip. Harry watches as Nick drinks it all, his eyes getting heavier.

‘So tired,’ he says.

‘It’s the adrenaline,’ says Harry, taking the mug from him. ‘You’re crashing.’ Nick tips sideways onto the pillow, tucking his feet up onto the bed. 

‘Thanks, Haz,’ Nick says, eyes shut now. ‘Thanks for everything.’

‘No problem, man.’

Harry sits on the bed and watches as Nick’s breathing evens out. He brushes Nick’s hair away from his forehead, and on impulse, he leans down to place a kiss on Nick’s temple. Before he pulls away, Nick’s eyes open and he turns towards Harry, bringing their mouths within a half-inch of each other. Nick’s eyes are almost black in the dim of the bedroom.

‘Haz,’ he says, barely above a whisper. His gaze flickers down to Harry’s mouth and back up again.

Three seconds go by that feel like three hours and in that three seconds Harry thinks how easy it would be to sink into Nick’s mouth. How easy it would be to climb up beside him, pull the covers over them, and undress them both slowly. Nick would go easy, pliable, and Harry could fuck Flavio out of him, wrap him up in Harry and make him never forget that he’s Harry’s, he doesn’t belong to these other idiots he dates.

And it would be a nice thing to do for Nick, something a friend would do: show some affection, hold a fellow human in their sorrow, show they are loved. It would be so easy to fool them both into thinking he was doing it for Nick.

Harry pulls away, squeezes Nick’s shoulder.

‘Go to sleep,’ he says.

Then he gets up, closing the bedroom door quietly behind him. He doesn’t know whether he’s a good friend or not. He’ll be there when Nick wakes up, and that has to be enough for now.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr [here](http://tilda.tumblr.com/post/86785145916/gryles-26-pretty-please) in response to fandomsandfeminisms prompt in the angst meme 'Gryles, 26 = anxiety'.


End file.
